Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Uruguay and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Sad Lovers and Giants to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Massinfluence. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Jacques Brel,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Excepter,
Nils Olav,
Skarface,
Fluxion,
Blancmange,
The Cowsills,
Dave Gahan,
Rhythm & Sound,
Intrusion,
Reagan Youth,
Amon Düül II,
Sällskapet,
Boz Scaggs,
Lou Christie,
The Barracudas,
Joe Finger,
Skaos,
The Blackbyrds,
The Doors,
DJ Style,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Index,
Matthew Bourne,
Graham Central Station,
Bob Dylan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Wake,
Darondo,
Andrew Hill,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Can,
X-Ray Spex,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Al Stewart,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Yellowson,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Leaves,
Tres Demented,
The Happenings,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Offenders,
Marc Almond,
Soulsonic Force,
Godley & Creme,
Absolute Body Control,
The Gap Band,
Guru Guru,
Tubeway Army,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
AZ,
These Immortal Souls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
New Age Steppers,
Jerry's Kids,
Q and Not U,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.